A Musketeer's Day Off
by Kristanci
Summary: After a vicious morning task, Duval decides to give the four musketeers a welldeserved day off.
1. Defeated Musketeers

Defeated Musketeers

The four musketeers returned to the garrison and reported to Captain Duval what they had undergone during the assignment he had issued them. He lifted his gaze from the parchments of orders that littered his desk. 'What in the world?' he thought. He looked to each and every one of them, and in short, none of them looked salubrious. They looked like utter hell.

D'Artagnan was covered in dirt and mud, and there were visible bruises that marred his face. His sleeve was torn from the seam, and the strap that held his rapier was cut, forcing him to hold his beloved blade in his hand. He could feel the captain's gaze on him, and he cleared his throat but said nothing.

Jacque had a split lip and minor cuts that covered her neck. Twigs and leaves were woven into her now bushy hair. Handfuls of those locks looked as though they have been pulled out of the ponytail. The remaining strands that stayed secure only made her look worse. She slowly turned her head to the side, avoiding Duval's stare, but he could now see the extent of cuts on around her throat.

Captain Duval could see a small gash on Ramon's forehead. His clothes were ruffled and out of place. A red color stained his clothing, but it was not blood. It looked like he ran through a field of berries. His shirt was torn in several places, and he too was covered in mud.

Siroc just looked plain terrible. His usual suave hair was unruly, sticking out in the oddest directions. His posture told Captain Duval that he injured his left leg as he awkwardly leaned to his right. He cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably when he felt the captain halted his inspection on him.

"Privates Siroc, Ramon, d'Artagnan, and Jacque reporting back, sir," he said.

"What the hell happened to the lot of you?" Duval asked. His mind began forming all sorts of wild stories, but he had a feeling he could not begin to imagine what happened to his musketeers.

D'Artagnan stepped up, grimacing as he did so. "Well, sir, as requested of our services we disbanded the bandits, and now we are reporting back." He looked as though he was ready to leave the office, but the captain continued the interrogation.

Duval knew that the task he assigned them was simple and easy. They should have been back hours ago. "Look at you," he started. "All of you are a complete mess. Did something go wrong?"

"Sir, we ran into some vicious…er…" Jacque spoke up, her tone dropped an octave.

"Animals, sir," Ramon finished. He moved his left shoulder so that the torn pieces of his shirt wouldn't fall down completely.

"Animals?" Duval repeated, an eyebrow rose slightly. He stood from his desk, grabbing his cane. "What kind of animals?"

"Ferocious, wild, untamed… with the largest claws man has ever seen before, sir," d'Artagnan said, bending his fingers into a replica of a claw.

Duval stopped in front of his four beloved musketeers, now suspicious and doubtful of their story. "I sent you four to be rid of a couple men who were harassing Madame Amelie. I did not send you to fight off Cromwell's army. Now what happened to you?" he asked in a more stern tone of voice. He turned to Siroc, knowing that the inventor hated it when he was confronted.

"Well, sir, that is…" Siroc stuttered. The captain glared him down, and it all came out. "When we rid Madame Amelie's residence of the men that caused her distress, she kindly asked us in for refreshments. When she offered her room to us, her pets escaped. They were in a frenzy upon our entering and fled the house. She asked us to retrieve them for her." Siroc stopped his explanation when he saw d'Artagnan signaling him not to say anymore.

Captain Duval was not done interrogating Siroc though, and he placed the tip of his cane over Siroc's chest. "Continue, private Siroc," he persuaded in a calm tone, but to Siroc it was quite frightful. The captain never used private in from of their names unless they were in the presence of the king, or if they were in trouble with their captain.

"Sir… the cats climbed up these trees that were taller than the three of us combined. Jacque and d'Artagnan tried to climb on top of one another to grab one of the cats, but she was frightened and jumped on d'Artagnan causing him to fall on top of Jacque. Jacque tried to fetch her, but the cat clawed him, as you can see the marks." Siroc pointed to Jacque's neck. Ramon and I were running after the second one through the front yard and through a garden…"

"Cats?" Duval held up a hand to interrupted him. "My musketeers were bested by cats?"

Siroc straightened his posture and looked down. The other three did the same, almost ashamed at that brutal fact. All they could hear was Duval's boots as he circled around them. "Four grown men- musketeers at that. Protectors of the king, guards for France… bested by a bunch of cats…" he said. He thought about the prospect for a moment, then let out a roaring laugh.

"Sir?" Jacque asked in concern. Captain Duval had bent over in laughter, trying to intake air.

"By cats!" he laughed again. When he looked over his musketeers again seeing their distorted state, it triggered a whole new fit of chuckles from him.

"Permission to have the rest of the day off, sir?" d'Artagnan asked, embarrassed that the whole truth was in the open. They had not eaten since the incident, and he very much needed a wash.

Duval waved them off. "Sure. You four can use the day as you see fit," Duval gasped. His face was now a bright red, and he leaned on his cane even more. "Carl, Nicholas, and Jean will cover for you… CATS!" he cackled.

The four musketeers gave a respectful salute, then left Duval's office, silently wishing at the moment that he might die in his laughter.

D'Artagnan headed for his room to clean up. "Why did you have to tell him everything?" he groaned to Siroc. They still could hear Captain Duval bawling in his office even though the door was closed.

"I need a drink," Jacque muttered, pulling the rapier strap over her head. She winced when she felt the dried blood on her neck pull at her skin.

"Si," Ramon agreed, but then a wide grin was plastered on his handsome face. "And I know just the place!"


	2. Ramon's Mistake

Ramon's Mistake

"Ramon are you certain that this place is," Siroc started as he fought to find the proper word, "civilized?" His light brown eyes scanned the tavern that the four had just entered, and it was short of pleasant. Burly looking men crowded around small tables, toasting at random looking for a festive reason to sip their mugs. Bar maids eyed the four musketeers hungrily the moment they arrived and wasted no time in providing their services.

Siroc, and Jacque felt completely out of place when they were seated, but Ramon and d'Artagnan looked as though they did not have a care in the world. "I cannot begin to tell you how lively this place is!" Ramon said in a merry tone.

"We can see it clearly, Ramon," d'Artagnan said, lifting his legs as a body fell next to his feet. The man was then grabbed by his shirt, and a fist was slammed into his face once again. When he came to, he grabbed another mug and downed his drink laughing with his friends.

Jacque cleared her throat, uncomfortable with the environment. True, she was in disguise as a man, but her female emotions were getting the best of her. She was sure that if a man so much as brushed up against her, her hand would be flying straight to his face. Her thoughts were broken and shattered when a busty chest covered her vision of the tavern.

"What will you be having, handsome?" asked the bar maid. She shamelessly puckered her lips at Jacque.

"Um…" Jacque nearly back out of her chair when she appeared. 'How can men possibly enjoy this?' she thought. Her eyes fell on d'Artagnan who was busy complimenting a maid of his own. In his words, he was being courteous… overly courteous. "Anything strong," Jacque said in a low voice.

Siroc seemed just as fidgety as Jacque when the same woman who tended to Jacque gave him a seductive smile and giggled, brushing his bangs out of his face. His mind was usually too occupied with gadgets and formulas when a woman was in his presence. That happened mostly at the garrison, but now he had nothing to distract him.

"And you?" she asked him in a sweet voice.

His face flushed in embarrassment and ordered what he wanted. She gave him a playful wink and strutted off. "Mary…" he groaned. He buried his face in his hands. "Have they no shame?"

Ramon blew a kiss to a woman and waved her a temporary goodbye. "What was that comrade Siroc?" he asked, entranced.

"Where in the nine hells did you bring us?" Siroc asked, almost flinching when any woman walked by.

D'Artagnan was having a ball staring at anyone in a dress. "He brought us to paradise," he said dreamily.

Jacque scoffed and averted her eyes from just about everything that d'Artagnan was doing. "Aren't you afraid of what this will do to your reputation? Even for the notorious heartbreaker, the younger d'Artagnan, this must do something to the family name."

D'Artagnan waved her off, eyeing all of the beauties that passed his way. "Nonsense! All of France has a great nepotism to our family, and that even includes the king himself. A little encounter like this will be but a memory, long and forgotten," he said. He smiled when he saw her reaction. In short, Jacque's face had dropped, but she quickly covered it with a scowl.

He did not mean what he was saying, in fact, he said all he did just to get a rise out of her. Ever since he found out that Jacque was in fact a woman, he tried his hand at everything possible to agitate her. He had to admit that the annoyances he caused Jacqueline were now becoming more frequent because he loved to see her. Anytime of day or night, he just liked to see her. Even though she was mad at him a good portion of the time.

Ramon placed his chin in his hands and sighed, loving his life right now. For a moment, one could have mistaken d'Artagnan's lifestyle for Ramon's. Siroc lowered himself in his chair trying to avoid every single soul that was in the tavern. "Ramon, you surprise me."

The drinks were placed on their table, and Ramon grabbed his and gulped it down. He wrapped an arm around d'Artagnan, raising his glass signaling his order for a second drink. "Though I am not easy to give away my heart, like our friend here," he said, indicating d'Artagnan, "that does not mean that I cannot appreciate the beauty of a woman."

Siroc and Jacque slowly sipped their drinks plotting revenge against Ramon for bringing them to such an accursed place. Jacque licked her lips, tasting the alcohol burn her tongue and throat. She turned up her nose when she realized what she was drinking. "This is unbelievably strong."

Siroc glanced at her cup and quirked an eyebrow. "Smells strong too," he said. "It would be convenient to eat something to hide the smell."

"But I am not hungry," Jacque said, taking another sip.

"Something small then," then the wheels in Siroc's head began turning. "Perhaps, a pill of some sort."

"That is easily swallowed," Jacque said, finishing her glass.

"And gives off a minty scent," Siroc's eyebrows creased together as he thought of countless possibilities for a new creation. "I wonder," and his words were drowned out in his glass. He was never a huge drinker, but right now he decided that he appreciated the comfort only a glass of alcohol could give.

Ramon downed yet another drink while romancing the women of the tavern. He wooed them with his soft and elegant words and enticed them with his dramatic body language. He and d'Artagnan eventually placed a bet to see how many women they could allure given their different strategies of seduction. They rose from the table and set off for their amorous adventure.

Jacque began drinking a bit more heavily when she saw d'Artagnan flirting shamelessly with anyone in a low cut dress. The simple act of drinking from a glass started becoming more violent as she roughly swallowed every drop in her cup. A light pink color tinged her cheeks, and she could feel the headache beginning.

Siroc picked up his drinking as well thinking of the ways he could invent this new pill that could stop bad breath. He too asked for another drink when he could see the bottom of his glass. He never thought that drinking would help him relax and organize his thoughts. He jumped when he heard Jacque slam her glass down on the table. He gave her an empathetic pat on the back. "You shouldn't feel that way."

Jacque turned to him wondering what point he was trying to make. "What do you mean?" She was sure that her jealousy had not taken a huge influence in her actions. She would never admit it in the open, but yes, she was jealous. She wished that she was the one that d'Artagnan now held in his arms, taking a short waltz around the tavern. 'Wait… does Siroc know?' she thought in a panic.

"D'Artagnan is the one who always has women flocking to him like mad," Siroc said. "You shouldn't be jealous. You can just as easily have an admirer or two."

Jacque understood and let out a nervous laugh. "Oh! Me? Jealous of d'Artagnan? Pshh!" she pursed her lips together. The alcohol was taking its toll on her. She could have sworn she heard a hiccup or two from Siroc.

Ramon felt alive whenever he entered this safe haven. It was not as relishing as Rhapsody Night in Café Noveau, but this particular tavern sufficed in its place. It is not often that one would find lifted spirits and energetic souls in one place at a time even though most of them were drunk. By now, Ramon had finished more than four drinks, but more importantly, he had been kissed on the cheek by six women. d'Artagnan and he had tied for the night.

D'Artagnan half embraced Ramon, the two men leaning on each other for support from the alcohol. "Ramoooon, my friend, I bow to yuuuu in the utmost reshpect," d'Artagnan said slurring his words.

"For you, d'Atagna," Ramon said just as drunk. "I will ashept any shallenge!" His eyes set on a creature that took his breath away. She possessed more pulchritude and grace than any woman he had seen in his life. He danced over to her, leaving d'Artagnan to his hunting, and clutched her hand in his own. She seemed surprised when he knelt on one knee next to her.

"My lady, your eyes have captured my soul, luring it with your gentle gaze. Your hair flows like the soothing wind," he said in his most seductive tone. Somehow, the slur he had endured earlier was completely gone. He touch one of her bangs that fell from their hold, but she backed away instinctively.

Siroc tapped Ramon on the shoulder. "Um…Ramon?"

But the passionate poet ignored him and continued. "Your elegance holds me captive and your beauty stills my heart. Please angel, bestow upon me but one gentle kiss…" he closed his eyes. Instead of a kiss, he was punched right in the jaw. Ramon fell to the ground, blacked out and unconscious. The woman stood and stormed across the tavern.

D'Artagnan came waltzing by and almost tripped on his friend who was sprawled out on the floor. "What happened to him?" he asked Siroc realizing that it was Ramon beneath him.

Siroc had to take a second to take in what he had just witnessed. He hoped that everything will have been forgotten by tomorrow. "He asked for a kiss."

"What's wrong with that?" d'Artagnan asked, trying to help Ramon back up.

"You two must have had more wine than your wit would allow. That woman that he was trying to court?" Siroc began.

"What about her?"

"...that was Jacque."


	3. Let's Forget Last Night

Let's Forget What Happened

Four pairs of boots stomped their way back into the musketeer garrison. It was more like two pairs of boots were walking and the other two were being dragged. Siroc adjusted Ramon to fit his shoulder a bit more comfortably while d'Artagnan half carried an incongruous Jacque. "d'Artagnan… my bed wants I," she said in a muttered voice. She had already passed out at the tavern shortly after the incident with Ramon.

Siroc turned his head toward d'Artagnan. "Take care of him. I've got this one." He then followed the hallway that led to Ramon's room wondering if he should be nice enough to throw him on the bed or drop him on the floor.

D'Artagnan made it to Jacque's room without effort. He went to her side when she fell over knowing full well that if Siroc or Ramon aided her, they would find out that she was a woman. Already, she had been saying things to him that uncovered her secret. "You're pretty heavy for a woman," he said, pushing her door open. She said something under her breath, but he could barely hear her. "I doubt that you can change yourself, so you'll have to sleep in your uniform."

Jacque spun herself in his arms, so that she faced him. She drew her arms around his shoulders and gave him a light hug, giggling like a little girl. He could smell the alcohol in her breath.

"Um… Jacque?" d'Artagnan asked, unsure of what to do.

"You don't think I'm pretty do you, d'Artagnan," she asked, but it sounded like more of a statement.

D'Artagnan could feel the heat from her cheek against his own. 'She's had way too much to drink,' he thought. "It's not that at all," he said, gently pulling her away, but she stayed right where she was.

"If I wore a dress and pranced around like an idiot, would you love me like you do them?" she asked. Her forehead rested against his shoulder and she sighed. She began toying with his hair, rubbing a few strands between her fingers.

"Jacqueline," d'Artagnan dared to say her name. "I think you are beautiful. You know that I only act like that because Ramon and Siroc are with us."

Then she started laughing , and she hugged him even tighter. "I know," she said and pulled her head back to look at him. Her eyes bore into his, and he stood speechless. None of the women he courted ever looked at him the way she did. It was pure affection. "I love you, d'Artagnan," she whispered, and she pressed her lips to his.

His eyes widened in shock, but he didn't know at the moment if it was the confession or the act. Suddenly, she collapsed in his arms and passed out again. "Oh god…" d'Artagnan had no idea what he had just been through. He managed to get her into the bed and pull the covers over her. He prayed to God that she would not remember what happened in the morning. The last thing he wanted was a rapier through his heart when the sun came out.

D'Artagnan closed Jacque's door shut, but a small smile formed on his lips. If things were different, he would have said goodnight in a more intimate way, but for now he blew her a kiss.

"Women punch exceptionally hard," Ramon moaned, touching his right eye. He sat at the edge of his bed where Siroc had placed him. He fell over to his side and hugged his pillow.

"That was not a woman, Ramon," Siroc said trying to hide his laugh. Seeing Jacque knock Ramon out was a worthwhile moment that he would never forget. "That was Jacque. Remember? Jacque Laponte? Our friend? Our MALE friend?"

Ramon looked at Siroc and winced when he tried to focus in on his friend's image. "I could have sworn that Jacque was a woman! Have you really looked close at him? His features are the most feminine I have ever seen!"

"I'm too busy observing people's actions rather than appearances, my friend," Siroc said. "If Jacque is indeed a woman, then I'll create that little pill which hides bad breath by tomorrow."

"And what will you call it?" Ramon asked climbing into bed, forgetting to pull his boots off.

"I need to make it first," Siroc said leaving the room. "Good night, Ramon."

"Si, night, comrade…" Ramon drifted off to sleep, letting his eyes fall shut.

Siroc shook his head and let out the laugh that he had kept inside of him. He turned and met D'Artagnan in the hallway, the two apparently going in opposite ways. "Isn't your room that way, Siroc?" d'Artagnan asked.

"But my lab is this way," Siroc said and continued walking away from the resting quarters.

"Had another idea, have you?" d'Artagnan asked. "What are you trying to figure out this time?" He had no idea how Siroc had the slightest bit of strength to come up with a new invention.

"It's more of a test of fate and coincidence than science this time…" Siroc's voice faded out as he rounded a corner.

'What did he mean by that?' d'Artagnan thought, but he was too tired to care. His feet took him to his own bed, and he welcomed it. He pulled off his uniform, rapier, and boots then stretched his body over his bed. Sleep fell over him in a hurry, and he was sure that he would be dreaming of a certain female musketeer tonight.

The next morning, d'Artagnan found Ramon sitting at the breakfast table, his head buried in his hands. "Headache?" d'Artagnan asked, sitting next to him.

"Like you would not believe," Ramon said, rubbing his temples. His eyes were half closed, well one of them were.

"Jacque gave you a nice one," d'Artagnan observed, seeing the blue and purple that formed around Ramon's eye. "You should put cold water over that before it gets worse. Do you remember anything about last night?"

"Only what happened when we came back," Ramon said. "And that is not much. D'Artagnan…have you ever thought that Jacque looked like a…" but he was cut off when someone else walked into the dining room.

Jacque emerged from her room, her heart and stomach set on food. Her face showed lack of sleep, and her body looked as thought it fought not to stumble over. She felt two pairs of eyes on her, and she looked up to see d'Artagnan and Ramon watching her. "What?" she asked, pulling on her right glove.

"Er… nothing," Ramon said. "Rough night?"

"Well, I must say that last night will be the only time I ever go drinking with you," Jacque said. She stopped right next to d'Artagnan and both could feel the uncomfortable tension between them.

"How are you feeling?" d'Artagnan asked, breaking the silence. He could not exactly tell her that he remembered every detail about what happened in her room, but he would have to give her the benefit of the doubt.

"All right," Jacque said curtly, straightening the rest of her uniform.

"Do you remember anything at all?" he asked, his mind replaying the night before. 'Like when you wrapped your arms around me?'

"No… nothing… you?" she said. 'Please don't remember that I kissed you…'

"Nothing," he answered back in a horrible imitation of a dumbfounded expression. 'Who would have thought that you loved me.'

Silence.

The looked at each other letting out forced laughs. "Right, well," Jacque began, "how about breakfast? I'm starving."

Then Siroc came running around the corner, short of breath. The three stared at him because he appeared to be drenched in water, apron and all. "I did it!" he exclaimed, breathing heavily. He held his hand up and in between his thumb and fore finger, was a little green ball. "Jacque! Do you remember that pill we were talking about last night?"

Jacque nodded. She couldn't remember all of the conversation, but she did remember something about a pill.

"Well, I've done it! I call it… the gelid mint drop!" he held out the little green ball for them to behold.

D'Artagnan looked over the inventor from head to toe. "That's well and good, Siroc, but why are you completely saturated in water?" Siroc's hair was slicked back when he ran a hand through it, and his shirt tended to cling to his arms and chest. "Well, I tried countless trials of experimenting, and since all of you were sleeping when I needed a host, I ingested the pills myself. The last one I tried had such an alarming taste to it! The mint flavoring was so incredibly strong that it burned my mouth. I did not have water available in the lab, so I went to our water supply."

"Did you swim in it?" Jacque asked.

"No, I merely had to submerged my head. I could not find a glass for the life of me!" he said, but he could care less about how he looked, his nerves were on fire. He accomplished a creation of convenience in such a short amount of time, and he was not modest about it at all. His smile fell from his face when he looked at the green pill, then he glanced over to Ramon.

Ramon, with his one good eye, caught Siroc's gaze. Then both men stared at Jacque, uncertain and unsure of what this discovery meant. Siroc had said that if he managed to invent the pill overnight then Jacque was most certainly…

"What are you two staring at?" Jacque asked in a more demanding tone, the man in her started to come out. She was annoyed greatly now because of all the attention she was receiving. It made her uneasy. "If you two are done, I'm going to get breakfast, and d'Artagnan, wash up. You smell like a woman."

"I do not!" d'Artagnan fought with her till they left the dining room.

Ramon and Siroc stood there, wondering if their little assumption proved true. They looked at each other. "Nah, he couldn't be," they said a the same time. Ramon stood and clapped his hand on his shoulder. "Siroc, we are loco in the head indeed."

Siroc smiled, agreeing with Ramon in appearance, but he thought, 'I wonder…'


End file.
